This Happy Breed Page #13

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Just because you enjoyed yourself

in the last one.

Now listen here, Sylvia.

Don't you talk to me like that,

because I won't have it, see?

I did not enjoy myself in the last war.

Nobody but a fool without any imagination

would ever say that he did.

And I do not think it doesn't matter if millions

and millions of innocent people are bombed.

So you can get them stupid ideas

out of your head to start with.

But what I would like to say is this:

I've seen something today that I wouldn't

believe could happen in this country.

I've seen thousands of people -

British people, mark you -

carrying on like maniacs,

shouting and cheering with relief...

for no other reason but that they've been

thoroughly frightened.

And it made me sick, and that's a fact.

And I only hope to goodness we've got

guts enough to learn one lesson from this...

and we shall never find ourselves in a position

again where we have to appease anybody.

All you men ever think about is having guts

and being top dog and killing each other.

I'm a woman. I don't care how much

we appease so long as we don't have a war.

War is wicked and evil and vile.

Them that live by the sword

shall die by the sword.

It's more blessed to give

than to receive.

Well, I don't think it's more blessed

to give in...

than receive a nice kick in the pants

for doing it.

You're a warmonger.

That's what you are, a warmonger.

Judging by the heavy way you're breathing,

Sylvia...

I should say you was in error.

You're no brother of mine!

I don't ever want to speak to you again!

It's no use arguing with her, Dad.

She's getting sillier and sillier every day.

Well, I must be off. I'm picking up Sam.

We're going to see the crowds.

Oh. Sorry, Dad.

Well, you can cheer your heads off

for all I care.

- Why don't you take a squeaker with you?

- Maybe I will.

Good night, Mum.

- Good night, dear. See you in the morning.

- Good night.

- Good night, dear.

- Good night, Dad.

Good night, Queen!

I brought me boots.

Well, you'll have to clean them yourself.

I've got my hands full as it is.

- How's Queenie?

- Oh, she's all right.

You'd think nobody had ever

had a baby before.

[Chuckles]

She had a letter from Billy

this afternoon.

He wants her to join him

at Singapore after Christmas.

But the baby won't be old enough

to travel.

- She'll leave him here.

- What, with us?

Of course. Don't be so silly.

Who else would she leave him with?

- Oh, that'll be fine, won't it?

- Fine for you, maybe.

You won't have to look after him.

[Sighs]

Oh, dear, what a week.

I couldn't believe I could be so tired.

Poor old girl.

You do look a bit done up.

You run up and say good night

to Queenie before she drops off.

All right, bossy.

[Chuckles]

That's enough.

Oh, I'm expecting Bob to pop in

and have a farewell binge.

Give me a shout when he comes,

will you?

Binge indeed. One small one's

all you're going to have...

my lad, if I have to come and take

the bottle away from you meself.

I'd like to see you try.

[Whistling]

- Hello, Ethel.

- Hello, Bob.

Frank's just gone up to say good night

to Queenie. He'll be down in a minute.

- Heh. What a week.

- [Sighs]

With the crisis and the sandbags, and me

having to move the furniture into the bargain.

- Has most of it gone?

- Yes, went this afternoon.

I'm sleeping on a camp bed tonight.

Frank will miss you.

- Well, so shall I.

- I'm not going so far.

You'll both come down and see me,

won't you?

Oh, of course we will.

You'll feel a bit lost, I expect,

living in the country.

Oh, I don't know. I shall have me garden.

A sight better than the one I got here.

And the sea's nearby, and the village pub.

We'll come down and see you quite soon.

Well, I'm going to go and find Frank.

He promised to give me a drink.

- Oh, well, you better be getting along.

- Yes.

Good-bye, Ethel.

Good-bye, Bob.

Take care of yourself.

I will.

Do you remember the first night

we moved in?

- When we had Sylvia's Wincarnis.

- [Laughs] That's going back a bit.

Nearly 20 years.

And here we are, just the same.

Are we?

[Chuckles]

I suppose we're not.

- It's a strange world.

- You said it.

All them years.

All the things that happened in them.

I wouldn't go back over them again

for all the rice in China, would you?

Not on your life.

You remember that picnic

at Box Hill in 1923?

When you got as tight as a tick

and fell over and sprained your ankle?

[Laughs]

Whatever made you think of that?

I don't know. I was just thinking.

Do you remember that night we went

to your regimental dinner?

[Chuckles]

That was the night Queenie went off.

Yeah. Reg was alive then.

That would be about a year before.

I wonder what happens to rooms

when people give them up...

go away and leave the house empty?

- How do you mean?

- I don't know.

I was thinking about you going away

from next door after all this time...

and me and Ethel going away, too,

pretty soon...

and wondering what the next people

that live in this room will be like.

Whether they'll feel any bits of us

left about the place.

Here, shut up.

You're giving me the willies.

You don't think the Germans

will ever get here, do you?

No, of course I don't.

I'm feeling a bit bad

about all this business.

I'm not feeling too good myself.

I shall miss you a devil of a lot.

Same here.

You'll be popping down to see me,

won't you?

You bet.

Happy days, old pal.

[Ship's Horn Blowing]

[People Chattering]

Now don't you worry about little Frankie.

We'll take care of him.

- And don't forget to give my love to Billy.

- No, Mum.

Your luggage is all aboard,

and I've seen the steward...

and you got a cabin all to yourself

as far as Marseilles.

Don't fuss, Frank.

[Horn Blows]

That's us. We'd better be going.

Good-bye, dear.

- [Man] All visitors ashore!

- Good-bye.

[Man]

Come on, please.

Good-bye, Mum.

Good-bye, dear.

Take care of yourself.

- Be a good girl.

- [Man] Stand clear of the gangway!

And don't forget to send us a postcard

with a camel on it!

No, all right, Dad, I won't!

[Horn Blowing]

- Oh, Mum?

- Hmm?

- Don't let Frankie start to walk -

- [Horn Blowing]

[No Audible Dialogue]

[Horn Continues]

What?

Walk!

I don't want his legs to go in!

Oh!

[All Shouting]

Good-bye!

[Shouting Continues]

[Horn Blowing, Fades]

Well, that's that.

I never thought we'd get it all in.

- How's His Lordship?

- Oh, he's fine.

I gave him that postcard Queenie sent

with a camel on it.

He liked it.

He's dribbling, dirty boy.

Well, I expect you dribbled

when you was his age.

I do still if I happen to drop off

in the afternoon.

Well, that's nothing to boast about.

A bit snappy, aren't we?

Who wouldn't be

with all I've had to do today?

- Poor old crock.

- Oh, now then, Frank.

We haven't got no time

for fooling about.

That's just where you're wrong.

We got all the time in the world.

Have it your own way.

- I shall miss that garden.

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